


The Ophthalmologist

by AnaBolena



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Doctor AU, Doctor!Sam, F/M, Fluff, Ophthalmologist!Sam, Patient!Reader, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Smut, myopic!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 18:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10224608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaBolena/pseuds/AnaBolena
Summary: After your all time eye docor retires you need to find a new one





	

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s a little story inspired on my last Ophthalmologist visit. There are stuff in here that acually happened and others that didn’t because I’m a happily ‘married’ woman… Unbeta’d because I didn’t feel like bothering people with my lame ass fic. And thank you so much to my amazing friend @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname for bearing with me as I wrote this and the rest of the time!

“I apologize, sir. But we don’t work with that insurance company.”

“How can that be!? The sent me here!!” An old man is arguing with the receptionists in front of you and try to look away and mind your own business, but the bang of his shaky fist on the wooden desk force your eyes to their direction.

“Sir!” The bitch-faced receptionist warns. The old man takes his stuff back angrily and storms out of the clinic.

You and Bitch-face exchanges looks as the man keeps mumbling stuff to himself. “Next.” She smiles at you. Wow, you earned a smile!

“How can I help you?” She asks and immediately start talking with her coworker, a tanned, big-bobbed blonde who looks around her late forties.

You really don’t feel like fighting today, it’s been a long day and all you wanna do is see the goddamn doctor and go back home, where you can dress like a bump and binge watch season 3 of Game of Thrones… So you push your slipping glasses from the tip of your nose to their rightful place again and wait, about a minute and a half until Bitch-face goes back to her natural bitch face and turns to you.

“I have an appointment at 6.30 with doctor… Um. Winchestain?” You can’t really remember what name they gave you on the phone, you were really distracted when you called, and it’s your first time with this doctor since yours decided to retire last year. 

“Uh huh… “ Bitch-face doesn’t look at you anymore and starts typing on her computer. “Can you give me an address? 

Fuck the bureaucracy. You give her every little piece of information she needs with a fake smile on your face. “Okay… I need you sign here.” She points to the little box in the back of the referral and hands you a pen. “Now you’re gonna go to the end of the hallway, and wait by door ‘4’, you’ll be called by your last name.”

“Thanks!” You smile for real this time and step away from the front desk, but not before you realize there are two hallways. “Which one..?” You ask her.

“The left one.” Bitch-face says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, without lifting her face to look at you.

“Okay…” You roll your eyes and go to the left. Thankful for the AC, because it’s fucking hot outside and you really don’t want to stink out the place when you get into the consulting room.

You walk straight forward ignoring the few people around you on the waiting area, nothing personal, it’s just what you always do. There’s an open door and a tall, really tall guy in a pair of skinny black jeans and a white button up shirt standing by it. You do a double check around and to him, mostly because you want to find door ‘4’ and since the last one on the corridor is ‘5’ and the one he’s standing by is open you figure that’s the one you’re looking for.

You plop in one of the navy blue, pretty comfortable chairs and take a deep breath, enjoying the cold air in your lungs. Taking your cellphone out off your purse you open the front camera and check yourself out. Yeah, you’re presentable enough. You lift your glasses a bit to pat your skin with a tissue and arrange the frame back in place.

The black eyeliner you applied earlier today caught a little smeared because of the heat but it’s okay, you pull the band around your hair to undo the high ponytail you did when you were out on the street so your nape wouldn’t sweat too much. Once you fluff your hair a bit and comb it with your fingers, you put your phone back in your bag and start to take a look around.

Right in front of you there’s another door and this one has the number ‘4’ engraved above a golden plaque reading the name ‘Sam Winchester’ . “Ooh, Winchester.” You roll your eyes at yourself.

Unconsciously your right leg starts to jump, making your whole body wobble and there’s this feeling, like someone’s watching you. Your head whips to the side and the tall guy’ is staring at you while another doctor from inside the room is talking to him, really loud. So loud you can hear it, something about medical ensuring. And the tall goy is not really paying that much attention since he’s staring at you.

You smile politely and look away, and focus on nothing in particular. Sighing because Dr. Winchester is taking too long. To distract yourself you take your phone out again knowing he’s still looking at you, you send a message to your friend.

-There’s this super hot guy next to me and he’s staring like, 'How you doin?'

She doesn’t reply because she told you she had and exam today, she’s probably busy so you start scrolling down through social media apps.

There’s movement to your right and you see in the corner of your eye, Mr. Tall guy enters the room but not before he looks your way, and steps out not a minute later, a pile of paper in his big hands, heading your way. When he walks by your side you can see he’s not wearing a normal white button up shirt, it’s some kind of doctor’s smock. Apparently tailor made because it fits in all the right places. Showing off his broad chest and shoulders, short sleeves leaving on display thick arms with ripped veins.

He nods and smile at you and oh shit! He’s going for door ‘4’!! Long fingers grip around the golden knob opening the black painted door and steps in he looks back over his shoulder, at you.

When he’s out of sight you send another text to your friend.

-Alert! Alert!

-Mr. Tallguy just went into the consulting room I’m supposed to go in.

-He’s my new eye doctor!! Fuckk!!!

You know she won’t answer but you need to let her know all the same.

-Ugh. I wish I could take a photo to show you! He’s so hooooooooot!

While you’re typing an old man comes your way and takes a seat on the opposite chair from yours, right next to Doctor Winchester’s office, the man gives you a small polite smile at the precise moment the door opens.

“Ramon!” Dr. Winchester sees him and greets cheerfully. “Come on, in.”

The old man raises from his seat and enters the room, closing the door behind him.

It takes you a second too long to get what happened. “What the fuck? I was here first.” You mumble to yourself.

But what the hell, your life expectancy is probably greater than Ramon’s and you have nowhere to be, so… Whatever, you’ll wait a few more minutes for Dr. Hotchester. Exploiting the time in hand to properly clean your glasses, if by any chance the doctor decides to take a look at them.

The whole clinic has become silent and your mind wonders what is he like, Sam Winchester;kind, maybe he likes dogs and probably works out a lot and… Oh shit, you called him Winchestain and ‘Bitch-face’ never corrected you. What a bitch!

Your internal bickering is interrupted by the creaking sound of the knob turning and you sit straight, ready to get up. Ramon and Sam speak some more before Ramon pulls the door open and stares at you.

“There’s a woman here… Have you seen her. I think she might be waiting for you.” He smiles again and says his final goodbyes.

Dr. Winchester’s low chortle reverberates inside the room and Ramon walks away.

You hear him moving around and a minute after he appears under the door frame, taking over the whole space, calling your last name… Well, not quite, he mispronounce it and you’re quick about correcting him.

Your brain rapidly makes a connection and you remember having calling him the wrong last name too, could he know? His big hand takes a hold of yours.

“I’m sorry.” He apologies and you’re about to ask why… Oh, yeah. The last name.

As you step foot inside his office he leans down to greet you with a sudden kiss on the cheek. Well, more like press his harp cheek to yours while saying ‘Afternoon’, then he stands straight again motioning for you to walk in, closing the the door behind you.

He looks down on you and for the first time in a long time you wonder why you’re not one of those girl who wears heels or platforms on an everyday basis, no. You decided on black ballet flats today. His broad chest rises when he takes in a deep breath and the both of you smile.

“So… What brought you here?” He gives you a bright smile.

“Aahm.” Your mind goes blank for a fraction of a second before you can remember why you’re there. “Oh, yes. I need.” Your hand flies up to your face, to push the plastic frame from your glasses up. “To go bigger. I-I I mean-”

He chuckles, his beautiful hazel eyes drop from your face to your cleavage advertising a couple of wrinkles in the middle of his forehead. “I have progressive myopia and I can’t see as good as I did with these specs.” You continue, his eyes find your face again, only this time he lingers on your lips a second too long before meeting your gaze.

“Good- I mean,” he blinks a few times, “not-not good, that you cannot see, but you that you’re able to identify the problem.”

“Well, I’ve been wearing glasses since I’m 12 and this is my fourth increased…”

Dr. Winchester smiles again, this time he worries his lip between his white teeth and his eyebrows shoot up a bit, letting you see those wrinkles again. Your right hand lowers from your face and unconsciously scratches your left elbow. “So…”

“Oh. Right! Excuse me. Please, take a seat.” Pointing behind you to the enormous armchair he steps back. “You can hang your purse on that rack.” Automatically his eyes go to your cleavage again and you push down the cackle bubbling up your throat at this whole awkward situation..

Removing the strap from your body you turn around to hang your purse, a loud thud yanks your eyes from the diplomas on the wall, Dr. Winchester is re-arranging a couple of fallen portraits on the little bureau by the opposite wall. “I’m-I’m just gonna lower the light.” He assures you, as soon as he lifts the last one.

“Okay.” Nodding your head you move around the room to look at the black leather armchair, the seat is a bit high and there’s a step to help you climb on it.

“Here.” You hear the Doctor’s voice by your side and you turn to find his hand out for you.

“Thanks.” You say with a smile once you’re settle and the very comfortable chair.

“Okay, Y/N. Right?” He takes a seat on at the desk in front of you.

“Yes.”

“You know on what degree are you on right now?” He pulls the keyboard from the desk slot and starts typing.

“Supposedly I’m on 1.50, both sides.” You accommodate the frame again.

“Mmhm. When was the last time you had to… Um you went bigger?” His eyes leave the screen for a second to look at you and the side of his mouth twitches into a little smirk.

You giggle and bite your lip. “Two years ago.” Shaking your head you look down, at your feet, and if it weren’t for the scaffold your feet wouldn’t be touching the ground.

“Can I ask why did you leave your last doctor for me? I-I mean-”

“Yeah, of course. My last doctor, Dr. Monti, he retired.”

“Good.” The word is like a whisper but you hear it all the same.

“Good.” You repeat and stare back at him. The moment breaks when your glasses start sliding. down your nose. His eyes go to the computer screen and he types franticly.

“Okay, I want you… to take off your glasses and sit straight, please.”

You do as he asks you and rest your glasses on the small table by your side. He rolls his chair with his feet until he’s in front of you and leans to the side to pull a big machine from the space between the desk and your chair.

“You probably know this already, but this is a retinal camera. You gonna place you little chin here.” His hands come from around the big white thing to adjust your face to it. Your body stills for a second. “I’m sorry, I- I was just guiding you to-”

“No, It’s fine, I- I like being guided.” Your breath seems to get caught on your throat and you force yourself to inhale deeply.

“Please, don’t blink now.” His low voice pleads and you comply. “Okay… would you please, slide your head to this side now.” Next to the retinal camera there’s that one other machine that puffs air into your eye.

“You need me to guide you again, Y/N?” He asks when you have trouble positioning your head.

“It’s just, my forehead doesn’t reach the band.” The buzzing sound makes you back your head away and he chuckles.

“I’m adjusting it to your size. It should be fine now.”

“Thanks, I hate this machine.” You confess. “The little puff of air always makes me close my eyes and I have to repeat it every time..”

“We gonna have to try something then…”

“Like what?”

“You have really beautiful eyes, Y/N.”

“Um, thanks. I bet you say that to everyone who sits in my place. Ouh.”

“That’s one, I’m moving to the left one, which is equally beautiful. And…. we’re done. You did good, Y/N!”

He pushes himself with chair and all to go to his computer to type some more and you seat back, resting your back on the leather padding. He takes the machines away and is the phoropter turn.

“I want you to look at me through these little peep holes.” He laughs and unwittingly you bite your lip. “You said 1.50, right?”

“Mhmm.” He stands up and walks to the far wall, opposite of you, next to the little poster with all the letters, that’s just one big blur for you.

“Can you tell me, what letter this is.” He points to the middle one.

“I can’t.” You simply say. “I’m fuc- I’m blind!”

“Well,” he snicker, “that’s your current graduation.”

“No wonder I cannot see!!” Your voice goes a bit high at your own indignation.

“And how do you do… on the street and, with people.” His voice sounds closer, and you know he must be adjusting the device from his computer.

“I guess a lot… and now that I think of it, I cannot see people’s faces from afar.”

“Okay, how about now?” Doctor Winchester is standing by the poster again and you can see a little better, but not quite.

You focus your eyes up front again, and his face is a less foggy bringing a smile to your lips. “You-you want me to read the letters?”

“Please,” Your breath hitches on your throat when you hear him breathe the word out and goosebumps erupt all over your skin. “The second line… What’s so funny?”

“What?”

“You’re smiling.”

“Oh. I-I can- I can see better. That first letter is and A, if I squint.” You laugh humorlessly. “And I can also see your face clearer-ish.”

“Okay.” He nods and goes back to his desk. “Now?”

“Oh my god! The sun is up and it’s suddenly a bright day! Doctor, you cured me!” You squeal in delight. “You want me to read the letters for you, I can recite you the ones from the final row.. A P S B-”

“That’s fine,” He interrupts you, “I believe you.”

“I can also see your dimples” Worrying your lip, you look down, or as down as you can with the photometer still on your face.

Your eyes go up and he’s right there, taking the photometer from you. “I can still see them.” You sigh as he gets closer until his face is inches from yours. Inhaling, filling his lungs with the smell of you as his puffing breath fans a few hairs away from your face.

The closeness of his body making you squirm on your seat, your own breath becoming shallow.

“I’m- I’m sorry.” He apologies and steps away. Pulling his chair back to his desk and he stares at the computer screen.

The air inside the small room turns thick and the click of his pen forces you to regain your composure, you barely know the man, less than an hour ago you didn’t know what he looked like and you have no idea if he’s married or has a girlfriend… and besides, he’s a doctor and you’re his patient!

You take your glasses from the side table and put them back on, the scenery doesn’t change that much, but at least it’s better than nothing.

“Okay, Y/N.” He speaks again, but his eyes are now fixed on the piece of paper he’s writing on. “You’re now on 2.75.”

“That’s like, almost double…”

“Well, progressive myopia can get worse with age.”

“Hey! I’m not that old!!” You defend and smiles.

“That’s not what I meant.” He sniggers, lifting his gaze to meet yours. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” You both stand at the same time and helps you take the step before he hands you the prescription.

“We have a nice optics in the building, you can always get a discount if you tell them my name…” He hesitates a bit when he says the discount part, maybe he wants to cover for the little lapse.

“I have my optics, but okay. I-I can say, Doctor Winchester.” You look up at him through your lashes.

“It’s Sam.” His long fingers still linger on yours, prescription in the middle.

“Sam.” You repeat and his chest rises, puffing up with his last breathing.

“Y/N.” Automatically your eyes close and there’s a tinkling between your legs.

“I- I should. I. I have no idea what I was about to say.” You pant.

Hazel eyes bore into yours and he takes a tiny step closer, waiting for you to object, to put a stop on his advance, to walk away, you don’t. Instead you close the small distance between your bodies and crane your neck in order to keep the eye contact.

“I…” You start to talk, but his thumb on your the curve below your mouth mute all sound from you.

“Your eyes aren’t the only thing I like about your face.” He almost growl as his blunt nail trace the contour of your lower lip and you suppress the whimper threatening to escape from you.

He angles towards you inspecting your face, mostly contemplating your wanting lips before he licks his, ghosting them over yours, but not kissing you. While your breaths mingle his fingers tangle on the sweaty hairs of your nape, guiding your head further back. You drop the prescription to the floor and fist his clothes and a gasp leaves your mouth when he reclines your body backwards and his other hand grip your waist.

Sam’s mouth presses against yours and he wastes no time pushing his tongue between your lips to enter your mouth. The kiss is ferocious, tongues fighting one another, roaming each other’s mouths, as his hand on your waist, gropes and tugs your skin through your clothes and the other one massages your skull, lightly pulling your hair to hold you from moving too much, guiding the moments.

His chest rumbles against yours when you grasp his lower lip with your teeth. His big hand on your ass draws you impossibly close to his crotch, your back arches almost painfully and you break the kiss with a wet delicious snap.

“Stop.” You beg.

Sam let go of you instantly and backs away. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I-I got carried away and you-” He’s panting, with thumb on one side and middle finger and index on the other side his wipes the his mouth, dragging the motion down to his chin and neck.

There’s a thin layer of sweat all over his exposed skin, even with the cold of the ac. His sideburns and hairline soaked and shiny. You sigh and bend down to get the prescription from the ground. Silently you move to where your purse hangs and slip the piece of paper without opening the flap. Turning around you stare at him, standing in the middle of the room, his arousal still evident, even under his tight dark jeans.

You sigh again, observing the way his eyes narrow and his borrow frowns when you leave your purse where it is and slide on the wall to lock the door without looking. You clear your throat before speaking to push down the nerves “I can leave if you wa-”

The last words end up being swollen by Sam’s mouth as he hauls you against the door and eats your lips into a passionate kiss, all tongue and teeth. “Don’t leave!” He roars in your ear, lips attaching to your neck, kissing and sucking on your delicate skin.

Both his hands move around your body, sliding down to your ass, kneading the tender flesh. Forcefully compelling you to hop up and wrap your legs around his narrow waist. Your clothed core hugging his constrained erection as he rut against you and you become a whimpering mess. You take off your glasses and hang them from the strap of your purse.

“I want you so badly!” His head bows down to suck on the bare skin of your chest, nudging the plump glove of your breast with his nose until it leaves the confines of your bra cup.

His open mouth envelops your boob almost completely, his tongue and teeth play with your nipple and your head dips back, hitting the wooden surface with a loud thud startling yourself.

“Shhh.” Sam shush you. Placing a sweet peck on your lips he carries you away from the door to the leather armchair, sitting himself there with you straddling his lap.

“You’re so beautiful.” He circles his his hips, thrusting up and you moan. His fingers digging on the sides of your hips.

Your hands go up from his shoulders, where you been holding on, to his hair, carding your fingers through his damp locks. The ac loosing the battle versus the heat you’re creating.

“You’re magnificent.” You whisper before clashing your lips to his again. 

You start sliding down from him, working on the white buttons of his smock, exposing his naked chest to you, licking at his nipples and biting his perfect abs as you go down. Looking at him through your lashes you pull his belt from the buckle, pop the button and slither the zipper down.

You tow the tight fabric of his jeans down, with the elastic cotton of his underwear watching as his cock springs free, wobbling in front of your face, smearing precum all over his lower abdomen, moistening the fuzz of his happy trail. You lick a wide stripe from his pubic line to his bellybutton, feeling the muscles coil under your tongue.

“Fuck!” He squirms and tangles his fingers through your hair, pulling at it.

His free hand grips around the base of his cock smacking your mouth with the swollen head and then dragging it across your lower lip, pushing your lips apart.

“Show me what this pretty mouth can do.” He mumbles and you suck him in, loving the way the grunts and moans.

Bobbing your head you push him as far in as you can, the tip hitting the back of your throat, soft curls tickling your nose, tears prickling from the sides of your eyes.

And both his hands are on your head, pulling your hair up in a ponytail, brushing stranded locks from your face as your eyes meet his. And he starts thrusting up, holding you in place.

You relax and give in, opening your mouth and take him all in. “Oh shit!” He curses as his hips get off from the chair.

He forces you away from him and you let go of his cock with a wet snap. Spit still connecting the two of you together. “I need to fuck you. Please.” He pleads.

You get up, kicking your shoes off and dropping your jeans and underwear at the same time, tripping and almost falling as you step away from them, on your way to your purse. Sam strokes himself leisurely after tugging his pants down his legs as you look for the condom you know you have on your purse.

“Take off everything.” He commands.

Holding the little colored foil wrapper on your lips you pull your shirt up and off your body, followed by your bra. Sam helps you climb on top of him. He takes the condom from your mouth, ripping it open with his teeth and rolling it over his length.

Kneeling on both sides of his body you lower yourself to him, his hands on your hips. You grip him and align his throbbing length with your dripping pussy. Moaning his name as you feel him stretching your walls, enjoying the sting of his wide girth until you’re fully seated.

His arms snake around your waist, sweaty chest hair rubbing against your sensitive nipples. “Move.” He urges to your ear and with your nails clasping on his shoulder blades your start to rock back and forth.

Leveraging your weight on the chair you lift your ass up, slowly hoisting yourself up until he’s almost completely out, then your drop back down, engulfing him in one quick motion, grinding down. And you repeat it over and over, loving the way his cock brushes your g-spot and his fingers dig on your thighs.

“Make yourself cum around me.” Sam whispers and you stop going up and down and rotate your hips, dragging your clit on his pubic bone.

“Oh fuck. Sam.” You cry out, tugging his earlobe between your teeth.

“Shhhh.” One of his hands covers your mouth and nose at the same time, while the other one compels you to move faster, which you do.

His fingers open a bit to let a little air go in and your walls clench around him at the same time your clit twitches and you move faster, with purpose, knowing you’re close. “Fuck, Y/N. Just like that. Squeeze my cock.”

Your thighs tremble and you quake on top of him as your inner muscles contract, in order to milk him dry. Sam jumps up from the chair, his body still attached to yours, showing some kind of super strength, lifting your with him and placing you on top of the little table. He hooks your legs around his torso and begins to pound, relentlessly into you. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, then his body tense and your hands on his butt feel the muscle puckers up and he spills inside the condom.

Sam’s head lifts from the crook of your neck, damp hair sticking to his flustered face, he smiles at you, displaying those perfect dimples again and your kiss him, in a sweet manner. He sighs into the kiss and deepens it, sucking your lower lip in between his before he pulls away.

He hands you your clothes and turns around to rip the condom from his softening member. “Y/N?” He acts coyly now the passion cave in and the bliss slips away.

“Mhmm?” You pull your jeans up and button it while staring at him doing the buttons of his smock.

There’s hesitation in his eyes so you just nod and keep on getting dress, looking for your other shoe.

“It’s okay, it was fun.” You shrug once you get up from under his desk, where your right shoe was and you find him staring at you with puppy dog eyes.

“Y/N.” He speaks again as you put on your glasses and take your purse off the hanger to leave.

He walks closer to you, the front of his pants still open. “I know this would sound weird now, after…” He trails off and you smile.

“Would you like to join me for a cup of coffee and a muffin or a beer and pizza or wine and pasta… Whatever you prefer, I’d love to take you out on a date.”

“Beer and pizza sounds awesome.” You bite your lip.


End file.
